


The Staycation

by kooili



Category: Holby City
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Ring-verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 17:31:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14001057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kooili/pseuds/kooili
Summary: AAU has been busy and Serena has barely spoken to her wife in a month. When the opportunity to manoeuvre Hanssen into giving them some time off together arises, she grabs it with both hands.





	The Staycation

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate Title: Bernie Does DIY. A loose follow up to [Friday I'm in Love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13810098?view_full_work=true), and makes oblique references to chapter 3 of that story. With thanks to [JRed_CRuss_Berena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JRed_CRuss_Berena/pseuds/JRed_CRuss_Berena) who said "I would read the DIY Bernie story!!! Just imagine - sweaty, messy hair, tank top with overalls, paint on her face, flexing biceps..." Hope this is something close to what you imagined.

It had been too long since they both had time off together. There wasn’t really any justification for leaving the ward without a consultant when AAU had two and Serena had accepted it as the only downside of being married to her co-lead right from the start. The benefits were numerous and out-weighed, by far, that one tiny blip. There were the obvious perks, needless to say and, true, they couldn’t spend much time out of work together, but they did have the luxury of spending most days with each other at work.

_That’s the theory, anyway._

Her lips twisted wryly at that thought as she finished off her email with a perfunctory sign off before dispatching it into the ether with a click. Other than the requisite work conversations, they hadn’t had a chance to speak to each other during their shifts for the good part of a month now, with the ward being exceptionally busy. Between practically non-stop surgeries, different shifts, Morven, then Raf being off sick and all the overtime to cover the additional work, it felt like they had barely spent more than five minutes in the same room before one or both of them were called away for a consult.

Serena sighed as she drained the last of her coffee. Today was a case in point. Bernie was paged at five in the morning - or, as Serena called it, stupid o’clock - because the locum who was booked to cover the early shift called in sick at the last minute. She had shaken off the remnants of sleep and started dressing before Serena was even fully awake, a habit borne out of years working in the field. Serena had cracked open an eyelid and glanced bleary-eyed at the clock on her bedside table before falling back to sleep after Bernie leaned down for a goodbye kiss and a promise to see her later.

That - Serena checked the time - was eight hours ago, and other than a fond smile across the ward, they had had hardly had any contact.

_Ships passing in the night._

She didn’t know why that phrase had popped up in her head but reminded herself not to share it with Bernie. The last thing she needed was to be told off for comparing the love of her life to a boat.

_Speaking of which…_

A tired, but familiar face appeared in the corner of her eye and she smiled instantly. Bernie must have finished sooner than she’d expected with her surgery and maybe, just maybe, they had a whole half an hour to themselves before she was due to go into theatre.

Serena leaned back into her seat in anticipation as Bernie approached the office with a matching smile on her face as their eyes met. She entered the room and was about to close the door behind her when the phone on Serena’s desk chimed. Serena groaned and considered ignoring it before a quick glance on the screen revealed it was from Hanssen. She knew it would just be delaying the inevitable if she did.

Bernie peeked across at the reverberating rectangle and headed for her side of the office, frustration clearly written across her face. Sighing, Serena picked her phone up and offered an apologetic shrug before answering the call.

“Henrik, what can I do for you?” Her voice was bright and quite the opposite of her current mood.

Bernie flopped into her chair with a sigh and tapped the keyboard to bring her screen to life. Might as well do some work while she waited for Serena to be done.

“Yes, I’ve received your email and there’s plenty of time to prepare...” Serena’s voice trailed off at Hanssen’s reply and the apprehension was enough to catch Bernie’s attention. She scrolled through her inbox and found what she was looking for at the bottom of the page.

It was the announcement of an impending CQC audit.

_Didn’t we just have one?_

Bernie groaned loud enough for Serena to notice and roll her eyes in agreement even as she listened and made the appropriate noises in response to Henrik’s textbook spiel about the importance of clinical standards. She was about to open the next message on the list when a singular sound made her stop.

“What?”

Bernie frowned, knowing there was more bad news. It was inexplicable. If pushed, she would say it was a sixth sense or even extra-sensory perception that she knew the precise meaning of that single syllable by the subtle inflection of Serena’s voice.

“No, Henrik, I disagree. They can’t just land this last minute without warning...” Serena paused and Bernie could tell it was taking conscious restraint on her part to withhold her true sentiments. “Yes, yes. I fully understand that it’s impossible for them to audit a hospital in the middle of an MRSA outbreak but it’s been busy down here on AAU and Bernie and I need time to…” Hanssen obviously cut her off again and whatever explanation he was offering was agitating Serena enough that her left hand reached up and started fidgeting with the ring on her chain.

Bernie smiled. That had been a running theme at the start of their relationship. She would tease Serena about how she would eventually wear out the burnished metal if she didn’t stop her obsessive, albeit quaint, little habit. The challenge was quickly accepted and the ring had since been safe, bar the odd occasion of extreme duress. She pushed herself out of her chair in an instant, closing the distance between them with two large steps and perched herself on a corner the desk. Bernie reached out, pulling Serena’s hand away and wrapping her own around it.

Her reward was a reassuring squeeze.

“Fine, fine...” Serena muttered resignedly. “I’m on my way.” She ended the call a little more forcefully than usual.

Bernie released Serena’s hand. “The CQC?”

Serena nodded and heaved a large sigh as she pulled herself upright. “They’ll be here first thing tomorrow morning. Like a veritable plague of pigeons.”

Bernie’s eyes narrowed questioningly. “The circular said we had two weeks to prepare.”

“I know. “ Serena nodded. “There’s been a change in the schedule and Holby City has been bumped up their list and-” She paused meaningfully. “Henrik has told them that AAU will be ready for them first thing tomorrow.”

“What... why?” Bernie drew herself upright, outrage rapidly displacing the confusion.

“He thinks we would be the shiny example to kick things off with."

Bernie snorted and rolled her eyes. “While the rest of the wards have time to scrabble about and tidy up, you mean?”

Serena gave her wife an indulgent smile and teased. “I must be a bad influence, turning you into a cynic like this.”

Bernie returned her look grimly. “Any chance of a norovirus outbreak before the morning?”

****

They pulled up into Serena’s space well before the start of their shift the following morning. Serena held out her hand as they started walking towards the entrance, smiling as Bernie’s joined hers instantly. She surged forward with rapid steps, her mind preoccupied with the random minutiae that she was sure needed a final polish.

Bernie had to quicken her pace as she was almost dragged along by their joined hands.

“What’s the rush?” she gasped as they entered the lobby.

“You know what they say,” Serena muttered, continuing her forward motion but slowing down perceptibly, “punctuality is the art of waiting for the cast to arrive. Or in this case, the mob.”

And just like that, a light bulb flickered alight in her head. The cogs started turning and a plan formed and coalesced in a matter of seconds. Her mouth twitched upwards as inspiration struck.

_What’s the worst that could happen?_

Bernie was in mid-chuckle just as Serena pulled them up to a sudden stop. Their shoulders crashed together and she staggered backwards.

“Coffee?” She hazarded a guess.

Serena nodded, distracted by the idea gathering momentum in her head. She untangled their fingers before leaning in for a quick kiss. “And one of those maple pecan pastries if they have them today. I won’t be long.”

“Where are you off to?” Bernie looked confused.

“To see Hanssen.” The reply floated back as she headed briskly for the lift. “I need to speak to him about a proposition.”

****

The audit had gone smoothly, as expected, and the team leader shook both their hands warmly before stepping into the open lift. Bernie watched as he almost blushed when Serena flashed him her brightest smile as the doors closed. He didn’t stand a chance, she mused. Serena had the entire team eating out of her hands with generous dollops of her usual charm whilst Bernie organised the day’s procedures with military precision.

“Thank god that’s done.” Bernie huffed a tired breath as they headed back towards the office.

Serena nodded wearily. “Yes, for another year, anyway.” Her phone sounded an alert and she pulled it out of her pocket, tilting it up to check. “Hanssen’s just received the report on AAU and it was,” she paused before continuing with an unusually gleeful grin, “more than satisfactory.”

“More than satisfactory? Is that all?”

Serena dismissed her disappointment with a wave of her hand.

“Believe me, that is high praise by Henrik’s standards.”

Bernie relaxed into a smile, relief mixed with pride. There was something, though, about the look on Serena’s face that told her there was more to it than being acknowledged for a job well done and suddenly remembered something Serena said at the start of the day. “What did you need to speak to Henrik about, earlier?”

The grin was replaced with a smug smirk. “I proposed a quid pro quo in exchange for AAU being the proverbial sacrificial lamb.” Bernie tilted her head inquisitively waiting for her wife to continue.

“We agreed that if AAU scored well on the audit, you and I could both have two weeks off.” Serena paused for dramatic effect. “Together. Starting this weekend.”

She leaned back into her chair and enjoyed the sight of Bernie’s expression turning from confusion to surprise, then disbelief and finally joy. “You’re not pulling my leg, are you?”

Serena pushed herself upright and sidled up next to Bernie, snaking an arm round her waist in one smooth motion.

“No, darling.” She tilted upwards and placed a light kiss on lips stretched wide by a growing smile. “Two weeks away from this place.” She deepened the kiss before pulling away while she still had the ability to stop, mindful of where they were. A rough husk coated her next words. “Just you and me.”

Bernie took a steadying gulp of air and would have pulled her back in regardless had Serena not chosen that moment to remind her that it was ten minutes past the end of their shift and they could continue this at home.

****

Henrik was true to his word and announced that Sacha would hold the fort while they were away. The gods must have been in an equally equitable mood as the rest of the week flew by without any drama.

Bernie waited for the soft acknowledgement before entering the office. Hanssen was perusing a printed page centered precisely on a pristine blotter. She smiled as she stepped up to the desk and placed a slim folder on top of the crisp sheet of paper.

“These are notes on all the documents that need following up. And a one page summary of all the ongoing cases.”

Hanssen looked up at her and his face bore the closest approximation to surprise she had witnessed on him in a while. “Thank you Ms Wolfe. I’m certain Mr Levy will find it most useful on Monday morning.” He paused. “I am surprised you’re still here. You’ve been on holiday since,” he checked the clock on his desk, “an hour ago.”

Bernie nodded. “Yes. Theatre was running behind and Serena’s just finishing up on her last surgery. Thought I could do something useful while I was waiting.”

“That’s very diligent of you.”

She replied with a shrug. “Didn’t want to leave Sacha with a mess. I’ve just about finished the weekly morbidity statistics and it’ll be in your inbox before the end of the day. And, oh, there’s also-”

“Ms Wolfe.’ Hanssen’s lips formed his trademark straight line across his face but Bernie saw a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Yes?”

“AAU will be running like a well-oiled machine when you and Ms Campbell return. You have my word.”

A pink flush rose on Bernie’s face. “I know it will be. It’s just that...” She trailed off and groped for the words to finish her sentence but gave up in the end. “Thank you, Henrik.”

He tilted his head impassively. “Ensuring that department heads are in top physical, mental and emotional condition is part of my role as CEO. It was fortuitous that Ms Campbell came up with the idea before I had to suggest it.”

“Oh?”

“I surmised that she would be more amenable if she thought she came up with it herself.”

Bernie let loose a loud honk of laughter and shook her head in admiration. She made a mental note to buy him a drink when they got back. Who knew what other pearls of wisdom she might be able to pick up?

“Now go and collect your wife and take her home.” His lips twitched upwards in a small quirk this time. “Before you tell me that you’ve also scrubbed the staff room and polished the furniture in the office.”

****

Serena hoped she would never ever have to corroborate her activities for the past twenty four hours. There was not a chance in hell she could describe any of it in coherent detail. She would just have to thrust her arms out in despair and wait for the handcuffs to be clasped on.

She stretched languidly and rubbed her wrists, a sly smile appearing on her face when flitting images from the night before began sharpening into focus. And no, it wouldn’t be _those_ kind of handcuffs either.

The mattress shifted as she nudged herself onto her side. There was a crumple of duvet gathered next to her thigh but the space beside her was empty otherwise. Serena reached out and the lingering warmth on the sheet told her that the spot had not been long vacant. She listened for sounds of movement - running water, anything - from the ensuite but it was silent. A quick glance at the bedside clock confirmed it was just before seven. Bernie must have gone out for a run.

Serena smiled. That was just typically Bernie to be up at the crack of dawn even while on holiday. Either that or she hadn’t worn her out enough the night before. A wicked thought bloomed in her head.

_I’ll just have to try harder tonight._

She allowed her imagination to meander and it wasn’t long before her head began to fill with increasingly sinful ideas. Her eyelids were about to flutter shut when a muffled bang from somewhere in the house distracted her. Serena pushed her head up from the pillow and cocked an ear towards the bedroom door. There was another clatter with the sound of what she hoped was Bernie’s voice overlaying the echo as it faded away.

Serena swung her legs round the side of the bed and pushed herself upright. Her dressing gown was draped on an armchair beside the bed and she picked up, slipping it on before heading for the door. The voice exclaimed what was possibly a frustrated curse word and it definitely belonged to Bernie. There was an equal measure of relief and trepidation flooding through her head as she made her way downstairs.

What on earth was Bernie up to?

****

Bernie hadn’t gone for a run after all.

That was more than obvious by the time Serena reached the threshold of their kitchen door. She surveyed the scene, her face twitching, undecided whether a smile or a frown would be more appropriate. The early morning sun streamed through the window, lighting the room. It would have usually bounced off the polished surface of the countertops were they not covered with a jumbled pile of pots and pans. Steam wafted from a pot on the hob and, judging from the gentle thrum, there was something cooking in the oven as well.

Serena leaned up against the door frame, deciding that she needed to gather more information before she made up her mind. “Need a hand?”

Bernie’s head snapped round in reflex, her hand dripping wet and hanging in mid-air. “You’re up.”

The look of surprise was highlighted by a tinge of embarrassment and her mind was made up for her. Serena smiled as she entered the kitchen, bending over to pick up an errant pot lid from the floor, as she padded towards Bernie. The lid was soon discarded as it joined a large pile of dirty utensils in the sink. “And you’ve been busy.”

Their lips pressed together briefly as Bernie dried her hands off on a kitchen towel.

“I was going to cook breakfast.”

“I see that.” A quick look into the open pot revealed it was nothing but murky water bubbling away. Serena glanced round the kitchen counter, finally spying broken shells in an empty box.

“Eggs?”

“That was the plan until I ruined all of them.” Bernie’s face was flushed, not entirely from the heat.

“What were you making?”

“Eggs Benedict. I remember you saying you like them.”

Serena nodded. “And?”

“The hollandaise was split and let’s just say the poaching went badly,” Bernie mumbled, a touch embarrassed.

“How is it possible...” Serena’s words faded as she looked into the bowl Bernie reluctantly placed in front of her. “Oh.” She stared a little closer. “It’s not that bad.” Bernie tilted her head in sceptical silence as Serena offered encouragingly. “Egg soup?”

There was a pause as they stared at the bowl and then each other before bursting out in simultaneous laughter.  

“Oh darling, I love you so much for trying.” Serena wiped the tears out of the corner of her eyes.

Bernie sniffled, snorting one last time before she answered. “At least we still have muffins and prosciutto.”

Serena was about to nod her agreement when Bernie stiffened, an expression of horror blooming across her face.

“Oh shit.”

She swivelled round instantly, pulled on gloves before opening the oven door, repeating the words over and over in dismay. Hot smoke immediately stung her eyes and she quickly shut the door as she soon as she retrieved the contents. An acrid smell filled the kitchen, emanating from blackened lumps, still sizzling on the thin metal tray.

“We _had_ muffins and prosciutto.”

She turned to see Serena looking on fondly, shoulders shaking with suppressed mirth.

“Sorry.” Bernie muttered ruefully as she tipped the contents of the tray into the bin. The tray soon joined the pile in the sink. “You know what, I give up.” She sighed in resignation as she leaned up against the edge of a cabinet.”Good thing I didn’t set the smoke alarm off.”

Serena closed the gap between them and pulled the glove off Bernie’s hand. She lifted it up to her lip and kissed each knuckle before letting it go. “Why don’t you jump into the shower?” Her other arm snaked around Bernie’s waist, giving it a squeeze before releasing it. “I’ll start the dishwasher and have coffee and toast waiting when you come back.”

****

“Should’ve just gone for simple in the first place,” Bernie mumbled, mouth half full with toast.

Serena’s eyes creased with a smile. “It’s hands-on research until you perfect the recipe.” She held up a hand, pre-empting Bernie’s next words “Which you will because I know that you won’t stop until you do.”

Bernie was determined to protest and her mouth hung open for a moment while she attempted to form the words, but realised it was pointless. She took another sip of her coffee instead and hid her response behind the rim of the mug. “I’d better stop being predictable before I turn into a bore.”

“Oh no, you’re never boring.” Serena reached across the table and covered Bernie’s hand with her own. Bernie soon felt the gentle friction of metal against skin as Serena nudged the band round her ring finger, first one way and then the other. Her thoughts drifted as an all too familiar observation crossed her mind on cue. Her wife was clearly obsessed with rings, despite her regular, adamant denials.

“Bernie?”

She blinked and raised her gaze, giving Serena her full attention. “Hmm?”

Her reply was throaty chuckle. “Not boring but possibly a tad bored? Perhaps I’ve not been sufficiently distracting or enticing.”

Bernie’s eyes widened in panic as she groped for the right words but Serena patted her hand reassuringly to put her out of her misery.

“I’m just teasing.” Serena smiled and Bernie’s face relaxed. “And I know precisely what you need when you’re like this.”

The tension returned, flowing inwards as she held her breath in anticipation.

“You need a project and I have the perfect thing in mind.”

****

“Remind me again why I thought this was a good idea?” Serena huffed as she swiped away yet another clump of fluff out of her hair.

“You were the one who suggested a project and the loft needed a clear out.” Bernie grunted as she hefted a box up from the floor, balancing it on top of a taller one. She peeled back the cardboard flaps and stared at the contents.

“Why are we keeping old copies of the BMJ?” She gave her wife a quizzical look.

“They might come in handy. For future reference,” Serena answered vaguely.

Bernie gave her a pointed look. “These are from fifteen years ago. And you can get copies of them online.”

“Fine, fine. They can go.” Serena gave in with a wave of her hand. She turned and picked up the first thing her hand brushed against. It was an old lampshade. She frowned, staring a little harder, wondering when she had bought it or what could have ever possessed her to think lime green was a good colour for anything. It swiftly found its way into a bin bag.

Bernie rifled through the final stack of boxes, smiling when they all revealed similar contents and she could quickly dispatch them into the recycling pile. She straightened her back, rolling her shoulders. “I think that’s pretty much all of it done.” She looked round the space they had cleared. “Not bad for a morning’s work.”   

Serena nodded, and was about to suggest a cup of tea when she noticed that Bernie had left one last box, tucked in the shadow of a corner. “Don’t forget that one.” It was going to take several trips down the steep stairs to clear what they’d tidied as it was and she didn’t want to miss anything and have to come back up again.

“Oh, that’s not for recycling,” Bernie answered hurriedly. “Why don’t you go down first and we can start getting rid of all of this.”

“What’s in it?” Serena pulled up to her full height, her curiosity now piqued by the quick dismissal. She picked her way across the wooden slats, pulling the cardboard open the moment she reached it.

“It’s nothing,” Bernie mumbled. “Just something I never got round to when I was in the flat.”

Serena peeked into the box. It was almost filled to to brim.

“Painting project?”

She rustled through contents for a moment, picking up then replacing the brushes lying in a jumble on top. There was a layer of plastic tester pots stacked neatly at the bottom of the box.

“Italian Roast.” Serena read the first label that caught her eye.“Isn’t that a blend of coffee?”

An inordinately loud honk of laughter made her look up. Bernie’s face was an unusual shade of crimson, somewhere between embarrassment and mirth and Serena arched an eyebrow at the sight. There was an interesting story behind this and she was determined to find out what it was.

****

“...and that’s why I kept the paint,” Bernie finished off with a wry smile.

Serena’s eyes twinkled with glee. “My very own romantic action woman. How did I get so lucky?”

Bernie flushed pink yet again. “So you say.”

“Yes I do.” Serena leaned across the table and kissed her wife until she was sure Bernie was sufficiently convinced.

She pulled back and picked up the yellowed square of dried paint sitting between them. “This is a nice colour. “What did you say it was for again? A feature wall?”

“Yes. It’s one wall in the room…” Bernie stopped her explanation mid-sentence when she realised that it wasn’t so much a question as it was an idea forming in her wife’s head. “What are you thinking?” She almost didn’t dare ask.

“I think a feature wall would look lovely round the fireplace, don’t you think?”

Bernie’s eyes widened. This time the question was definitely more than a mere suggestion.

****

The store was relatively quiet when they entered. Serena looked round while Bernie fetched a trolley. She hadn’t been here for years: not since before her divorce, in fact, preferring to shop elsewhere for her hardware needs. Perhaps it was how she had felt obliged to tag along in Edward’s shopping sprees for increasing bigger and larger power tools in the death throes of their marriage. He was overcompensating of course, distracted by the affair - she realised that the moment she took her life back into her hands by scrawling on the dotted line - but the experience of being dragged along behind him had left an indelible mark on her mind.

“Ready?” Bernie reappeared, a bright orange cart in tow.

Serena smiled and nodded. In spite of her passion for life-long grudges, she had decided to graciously forgive his infidelity ages ago. It was, after all, the very first spark that led her to where she was today - shopping for paint with her wife.

“Lead on.”

They found the paint mixing section nestled at the far corner of the store. The desk was empty but there was a button to call for assistance and Bernie pressed it straightaway.

“I think we should get satin rather than the matt,” Serena said as she ran her finger over the sample finishes. Before Bernie could answer, a bright voice called out a greeting as it approached the desk.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting. How can I help?”

Serena smiled and pulled out the paint sample from her bag. “We were thinking of this colour for a feature wall in the living room.”

“Ah, yes. Excellent choice. And it’ll go very nicely with Taupe.”

Bernie swivelled round, a look of surprise on her face. “How did you know…” She recognised the young clean-shaven face smiling brightly back at her and exclaimed. “Jeremy!”

“You two know each other?” Serena arched an eyebrow inquisitively.

Bernie chuckled. “Jeremy helped me with all those tester pots when I got them. I didn’t think you’d remember me. You must get so many customers every day.”

The smile flickered but his voice remained light. “I always remember the best ones. I thought you were keen on Mocha Java?”

“It’s nice but we prefer Italian Roast,” Bernie answered confidently.

“Which one’s Mocha Java?” Serena perked up at the sound of the name. Her eyes scanned their immediate vicinity and were drawn to the bank of coloured cards like a moth to a flame. “Is there a sample here?” She took the two steps towards it, eyes widening as she took in the multitude of shades on display. “This one’s rather nice as well,” she remarked, picking one up.

Bernie piped up weakly. “But I thought we had decided on Italian Roast.”

Serena was far too engrossed to reply and Bernie slumped down onto a seat by the counter with a sigh. She turned to see Jeremy staring at Serena’s back with a similar look of despair. He caught her looking and attempted to rearrange his expression to something more appropriate without panicking. Bernie gave him a reassuring nod, smiling wryly, and he relaxed immediately.

Two hours later, she was clutching onto a five litre tub of Italian Roast as if it were a lifeline. Serena had made poor Jeremy help her decide between a dozen practically identical shades of brown before deciding on their original choice. She paused momentarily, her steps stuttering.

_Was I as bad as that when he was helping me before? The poor man…_

She shook her head. No, she couldn’t have been. Nevertheless, she made a mental note to fill out the customer feedback form later and leave Jeremy a glowing review. Bernie turned to suggest Serena did the same when she realised that she was in the middle of the wide aisle on her own. She stopped and turned to look behind her, expecting to find her wife catching up.

No Serena.

Bernie turned and retraced her steps, glancing to her left  as she passed each brightly labeled aisle. She finally found Serena pondering an open shelf stacked with long flat boxes.

“Serena.”

“Ah, there you are,” Serena answered breezily at the sound of her name, as if Bernie had wandered off without her instead of the other way round. “What do you think of these?”

Bernie took a step closer and peered at the label. Her eyes widened in the two seconds it took for her eyes to take in and her brain to register the implication attached to the words it bore.

“Are you sure there’s space?”

She knew there was and could already picture where the perfect spot on the living room wall was but she had to try.

Serena shot her an indulgent look. “You know there is and it’s the right time to put them up if we’re going to be repainting the wall tomorrow.”

Bernie smiled and nodded resignedly. “They look perfect. If that’s what you want.”

“Of course. I’ve always wanted floating shelves.”

****

Bernie wiped the sweat off her brow as she dropped the final box on top of the already substantial pile. She straightened her back and winced as a familiar click reverberated up her spine. Perhaps this was just a little too much after the strenuous run earlier in the morning. And Serena’s particularly delightful way of waking her up before that.

Bernie paused her thoughts and corrected herself, a crooked smirk on her face. That wakeup was many things - vigorous, bone-stealing, breathtaking - but to call it a strain would be a gross injustice to her wife’s exquisite fingers.

She lowered herself onto her haunches to pick up an errant box that had tipped over and a pleasant ache radiated from between her thighs. Bernie’s smirk widened as she amended her thoughts.

_Fingers and tongue. Mustn’t forget the tongue._

She briefly contemplated abandoning her current task and seeking out Serena for an encore performance. Shaking her head, she pushed herself upright and a muscle along her side protested painfully as her heels touched the floor. She stretched and the the pain lessened but lingered on as a slight twinge with each movement.

_Maybe not just now. But later, yes. Definitely later._

She stretched again and massaged her waist as she did.

“Sore back?” Arms snaked around her middle and Bernie leaned into the embrace with a hum. She pulled the arms a little tighter and murmured. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

A hand snuck under her shirt, then the thin layer of her cotton tank top, and ran gently up and down along the small of her back.The fingers started a slow rubbing motion as Serena’s thumb worked its magic.

“That feels so good,” Bernie groaned.

Serena deepened the pressure, moving rhythmically as she teased the knots and sinews loose with each consecutive touch. Her thumb pressed hard, stuttering, as she finished off with a final swipe right down the centre of Bernie’s spine, eliciting a final moan. She lowered her hand, sliding it into the dip between ribs and hip, before sliding across the swell of her belly to turn her around.

“Better?” Her head tilted upwards in confident expectation.

Bernie leaned forward, pressing their lips together to show her gratitude. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Serena murmured. The kiss deepened to involve tongues and teeth before they finally pulled apart. “You should have waited for me to give you a hand.”

“It’s just a few boxes. It’s not like I’m a stranger to hefting heavy loads about.”

Serena grinned. “Used to, and that was back in the day, Major.”

Bernie crossed her arms and gave Serena a piercing look. “Are you calling me old?”

“No, darling, and you said the word, not me.” She rubbed Bernie’s shoulder affectionately before continuing. “The last thing you want to do is injure your back by over-exerting yourself.” Serena’s voice lightened again teasingly.

Bernie shook her head. “It’s fine. Besides, I don’t think it’s lifting shelves that’s left me pleasantly sore.” Her reply ended with a wicked grin. She reached to pull Serena back into an embrace before stopping short with a wince of pain.

“I really think you should take a break before you do your back in,” Serena chided.

“No, I’m fine.” Bernie smiled, using the persuasive powers of her deep hazel gaze to their full potential. “Just need to mask off the skirting boards and the wall will be ready for painting.”

Serena started to protest but she knew from experience that it was pointless to argue with Bernie when she was dead set on completing a task.

“You’re more than welcome to give me a hand if it’ll stop you worrying?” Bernie offered as an olive branch.

Serena sighed and nodded. “I’ll make us some tea and change into something more appropriate.” A quick peck landed on her cheek before Bernie turned round and picked up a roll of tape, pulling a length off before lining it up along the edge of the wall.

****

The kettle bubbled to its crescendo before turning off with the usual click. She filled their mugs and waited while the tea steeped, golden brown slowly darkening to a dark amber. In spite of Bernie’s reassurance, Serena was more than a little concerned that she’d end up doing some genuine harm to herself if she over-stretched her back. The dilemma she had was that her wife was the most stubborn and determined person she knew and once she had a her mind set, there was very little that could dissuade her.

The tea bags were soon discarded and Serena fetched the milk from the fridge, pouring in the usual measure before reaching for a teaspoon.

No, she sighed resignedly. It would take more than logic and persuasion to distract Bernie anytime soon. Her hand paused mid-stir as an idea blossomed in her head. A wide smile began to stretch across Serena’s face as it hardened into a viable plan.

There was something that might just work if she could remember where it was - one of the boxes in the wardrobe, she imagined. Tea abandoned, she padded her way out of the kitchen and headed up the stairs.

****

Bernie stood back and admired her handiwork. Satisfied that she had taped off every single edge that might come into contact with the wall, she cracked open the pot of paint and stirred it carefully with the tip of her brush.

She could hear Serena moving about upstairs, muffled sounds of drawers and cupboard doors being opened and shut drifting through the ceiling. She smiled to herself, an image of various items of clothing being held up and discarded as Serena decided what she wouldn’t mind getting paint on. Come to think of it, she couldn’t think of anything Serena might own that was appropriate. Bernie would have just grabbed the first tatty shirt and old yoga pants she came across but she knew Serena was much more particular in her sense of dress than she was.

The sounds stopped and she could now hear footsteps descending the stairs as she started on broad strokes down the first edge of the wall. Perhaps she had settled on one of Bernie’s old t-shirts after all.  

“So, Major, where do you want me?” Serena asked smoothly as she entered the living room.

“You can start with the other side of the wall.”  Bernie was about to dip her brush into the can again when she caught sight of Serena and paused. Her eyes narrowed in confusion as she stared at the shirt on Serena’s back. It was one of her old Army fatigues.

“Why are you wearing-” She froze when Serena finally turned round to face forward.

If the shirt had piqued her attention, what was under it obliterated every remaining thought from her mind. Her eyes raked up and down the sight before her and the way the satin material clung in just the right places. Bernie jerked herself upright, brush dangling in her hand and mouth agape.

“I didn’t think you’d mind,” came the silky reply.

Bernie swallowed hard, her gaze transfixed. “No. Of course not.”

“Good, I thought you might like the look.” Serena’s tone was deliberate and they both knew they we no longer talking about the merits of her old uniform.

“Yes,” Bernie stammered, eyes still glued to a spot several inches below Serena’s neck.

Serena barely hid a lascivious smile as she chose that very moment to bend over and pick a brush off the floor before placing it on top of the can of paint. More than a hint of skin peeked out from under the short hem and Bernie’s throat went dry when it became obvious there was nothing underneath. Serena blew an exaggerated breath and fanned herself.

“It’s getting quite warm in here, isn’t it?” It was obvious the question was facetious as she proceeded to shrug the baggy shirt off, revealing the bare skin of her shoulders and arms as it fell in a heap on the carpet.

Bernie gulped, her eyes following every single nuance of the fluid movement. Serena retrieved the brush and dipped it into the paint, her wrist rotating lazily as she swirled the dark viscous liquid for long seconds before pulling it back out. The excess paint dripped off and she wiped it clean slowly and deliberately before straightening up to face Bernie.

“Shall I start on this end?” Her voice was innocent but the look on her face was anything but and a tiny fuse in Bernie’s brain singed into a puff of smoke.

“Why are you wearing that?” she finally croaked.

Serena raised an eyebrow in mock surprise.

“This old thing? I just threw on something I wouldn’t mind getting paint on.”

Bernie’s eyes raked across the skimpy outfit before answering. “There definitely isn’t much to get paint on.”

Serena quirked an eyebrow. “Would you prefer that I change into something more appropriate?” There was a little more than the usual cheek in her tone.

“Don’t you dare,” Bernie growled, discarding the brush she was holding and pulling Serena flush, devouring her lips.

Her hand found the edge of the thin slip and pushed under it impatiently. Serena gasped as Bernie’s fingers traced along her side before cupping the curve of her bosom. Soft groans escaped their lips simultaneously - one in pleasure and the other in adoration - as the touch deepened and Serena’s hand started its own adventure, teasing under the waistband of Bernie’s jeans.

They stumbled backwards, still joined at the lips as Bernie’s hips bucked in reflex. Serena’s head thumped softly against the wall while hands continued their assault on the flimsy slip, rucking it ever upwards. She gasped as the cool metal of the fireplace pressed into her generous curves and bore the pressure of both their hips. Bernie sensed the hitch and lowered a hand past the small of Serena’s back before settling on the rise of a firm swell to act as a buffer. Her fingers caressed the warm flesh in a gentle kneading motion.

The gasp turned into a moan and Serena mirrored the action by thrusting her hand past the confining denim, pushing aside the soft elastic stretched across her hips and grabbing eagerly at the rounded muscle. Her fingers grasped but failed to achieve satisfactory purchase. She groaned impatiently and drew her hand round Bernie’s waist to separate the button of her jeans from its hole before pushing stiff denim downwards in a practised motion. Her hand reached round the back again and claimed its prize eagerly, unrestricted at last.

“Eager are we?” Bernie murmured hotly when they broke apart for a breath. “Well, two can play the game.” She punctuated her sentence by scrunching up the last inch of the camisole into the gathered rumple of silk she had already collected and whisking it over Serena’s head.

“Well, hello there.” Her eyes darkened as she latched her lips greedily onto one of the dusky peaks crowning her wife’s chest. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered wetly against the heated skin before moving across and lavishing the same attention to its partner. “Both of you.”

Serena’s knees trembled as her brain went into overload and Bernie took it as a cue to lower them down onto the sprawl of dust sheet spread underneath their feet. The top of Bernie’s jeans clung around her hips but she soon felt cool air against her bare skin as Serena started peeling both denim and the sliver of cotton underneath, away from her skin.

The sight of Serena’s chest flushed and heaving as she pulled impatiently galvanised Bernie into action. She levered herself up on her elbows started shimmying her way free of the restrictive confines of her trouser legs. Why did she even like skinny jeans anyway?

A foot finally broke free and it gave her the additional leverage she needed to finally kick herself loose. Serena watched with hooded eyes and moved to straddle Bernie’s waist the moment her legs were free. The jeans were unceremoniously tossed over her shoulder and landed somewhere behind her with a soft thunk, knocking something over in the process but they were both too distracted to care.

“You’re still overdressed,” Serena purred, settling herself down onto Bernie’s hips with a deliberate grinding motion. She was instantly tipped forward when hips bucked in response and took the advantage given to rest her hands on Bernie’s torso, exposing it from under her tank top with a firm upward thrust.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are and how much I love you?” The words fell out of her mouth as they did each time she had Bernie at her mercy. It was the most glorious sight Serena could imagine - the woman she loved panting, heaving, breasts taut with desire, trembling with need for her touch.

Her universe closed into that singular thought as she let herself be pulled down by firm, strong hands. Their bodies fitted perfectly, opposite sides of a cast made from one perfect mold as Bernie began setting her body alight with the practiced touch of a virtuoso. Their lips met, urgent and eager.

“You might have,” Bernie managed to gasp in reply in between kisses, “a time or two.”

Serena groaned as a hand groped its way across the swell of her chest. She pulled back slightly and moved one of her own between their bodies. Her voice was a contradiction of silk and gravel when the hand finally found what it was looking for.

“Good. Now let me show you.”

Some indeterminate amount of time later, they dimly realised that Serena’s wild throw had upended the paint tin. By then, they were too far gone to care.

****

“We’re getting too old for this,” Serena groaned as she pushed herself into a sitting position.

Bernie propped her head up on an elbow and answered, a smug look on her face. “Don’t look at me. You were the one who started it, after all.”

Serena tilted her head deliberately. “Am I detecting a hint of discontent?” She leaned forward, accentuating her cleavage. “Perhaps I should remind myself never to do this again, Berenice?”

The question was patently insincere and Bernie knew straight away that there wasn’t a right answer to it. A random image appeared in her head - it was like being asked if one or two was better at her last eye test - but she smothered it before she chuckled aloud. She didn’t think Serena would appreciate her candid observation under the circumstances.

“Well?” Serena prodded.

Bernie opened and closed her mouth several times before finally giving up any hope of a suitable repartee. She settled instead for a look of gracious defeat.

Serena allowed herself a huge smirk of victory. Her eyes shifted away from Bernie’s face and she looked down at the pattern made on the dust sheet by a combination of the spilled paint and their own writhing bodies. She thought she could see a handprint on there, and that was definitely the outline of a buttock. “It’s quite artistic, this,” she said with a grin. “Maybe we should cut a square out and frame it.”

Bernie squinted down at what, to her, looked like nothing more than the obvious evidence that she’d be trekking back to B&Q to buy more paint. “Okay, sweetheart,” she said. “But you can explain it to Jason when he wants to know where we got it from."


End file.
